


The Righteous King (of Hell)

by kams_log



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 10, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Dean Winchester, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Hell, Lawful Evil Dean Winchester, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:37:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8060200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kams_log/pseuds/kams_log
Summary: From the moment Dean took a seat on the throne of hell, he knew he was home. Looking around he could see all that Crowley had worked so hard to build, all that he had done to conquer and reign, all the demons that had once followed the demon so faithfully, all standing before his very eyes. He admired it, in a way. After all, ruling hell couldn’t be easy by any stretch of the imagination. 
So, with a flick of his wrist, he smiled and ordered, “Destroy it all.”
It was the beginning of a new regime. All hail the King.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a new story I'm working on. We'll see where it goes. Also, I apologize for any mistakes, it's been awhile since I've been writing. I'll go back over it later for mistakes. Hope you like it, and please leave a comment if you do!

From the moment Dean took a seat on the throne of hell, he knew he was home. Looking around he could see all that Crowley had worked so hard to build, all that he had done to conquer and reign, all the demons that had once followed the demon so faithfully, all standing before his very eyes. He admired it, in a way. After all, ruling hell couldn’t be easy by any stretch of the imagination. 

So, with a flick of his wrist, he smiled and ordered, “Destroy it all.”

It was the beginning of a new regime. All hail the King.

+

Hell was a different place than Dean remembered. He was once tortured there, on that very rack. Looking at it now, he could still remember the pain he felt, the agonizing pain he went through for forty years, bearing it all in the always fleeting hope that his brother would somehow save him. But he gave in, like everyone else. 

It was the first thing he brought to the new throne room. He placed it in the center of the room, where any demon who entered could see. He would use it as an example to the other demons. That any who threatened his rule could bear the same fate of Alastair, who Dean tortured himself. 

He found it was agreeable with his followers, and he rarely had any use of it. But it was always there. Just in case. Besides, it was a good reminder of where he came from. What he’d overcome. 

Everything else he chose to fill in the throne room was simply there for sentimental purposes. An old pool table from the bar Dean first learned how to hustle. It was old and ratty, bumpy all throughout the table. He restored it himself, making it smooth and regal as it deserved to be in a throne room.

He also set up his own bar. No one had access to it except for himself and any he invited to a private meeting. It was everything he’d imagined from his dreams. A stock of all the best beer and whiskey the world had ever provided, dim lights that accented every glass and glowed against the counter edge. 

And of course, it wouldn’t be perfect without the stripper poles. Dean could have anything and everything he wanted, and he was sure he’d want a show every once in a while. Men, women, he could have them all.

By the time he was done decorating, it was perfect. It was his home, his true home. A throne room befitting a king. There was only one thing missing.

From his pocket he pulled the one item he needed. The one item he threw away, like a fool, but couldn’t seem to live without. 

He never told Sam he went back for it. But now, with the amulet in his hand, he felt the room was finally complete. He rested it against the tope of the throne and sat, marveling at the room of his creation. 

It was perfect. Against the far end of the room were windows where he could see the storm of hell, the burning fire licking at the glass and the blood dripping from it’s panes. 

Yes, this felt like home.

+

It took months to fix the damage Crowley had done to the rest of hell. The entire damn thing was built like a business office. Stuffy demons who had spent too long behind desks instead of practicing on the racks worshipped him as he broke their chains and threw open the doors to the lake of fire. They sang his name as he pulled the souls from their cages and threw them back into the fire, the place the wicked truly belonged. 

Yet, even still, he left some souls behind. The ones that still shone bright, the ones that sold their souls for the right reasons. 

Dean stared into their cages, watching them quiver with fear before him. They begged, they pleaded, they wept. Dean was unmoved, but there was something else inside him that softened. It was a feeling he’d never had before--not since becoming a Knight of Hell. 

Maybe it was more sentimentality? Maybe it was remembering what it was like to be on their side? 

He didn’t care enough to figure it out. He left the pure souls behind to rot. They could be tortured by the guilt, by the screams of their neighbors who would blame them for staying behind. They would be tortured in other ways. But Dean refused to let a demon put them on the rack. Not in  _his_ hell.

The rest, Dean delighted in watching them suffer. 

Sometimes he would walk through the flames, meet with the demons and watch them with their tools of the trade, doing their good work the way they were always born to do. 

Sometimes he would take over, torture a few souls himself. It was like ice in his bones, deliverance through the screams of his enemies. The Mark of Cain surged on his arm in triumph, pleased with the pain he pulled from the souls of others. It never failed to bring a smile to Dean’s lips, black chasing away the green in his eyes.

With their screams still burning behind him, Dean could walk away in triumph, knowing he was victorious.

+

He spent a decade in hell, perfecting all that Crowley had tried to accomplish. It was a decade before everything was as it was meant to be. A true hell, an actual burning pit of fire. A place of eternal torment, and Dean had finally set that dream free. 

He wasn’t happy, however. He couldn’t remember what that feeling felt like. He imagined it was something close to the feeling he had whenever he returned to his throne room after a long day of torture and destruction. Sometimes he liked to pretend that it was the feeling of guts in his hands, crushing eye balls in his fists as the body in front of him slowly pulled apart at the edges. 

But it wasn’t that. The joy of the mark wasn’t the joy he could vaguely remember. Sometimes, if he focused, he could remember the feeling of leather beneath his hands and engine tools in his hands. Sometimes he could remember singing old rock songs and the smell of rain after a thunder storm. 

He could remember the taste of coffee first thing in the morning. He could remember the long drag of a cold beer after a hunt.

These were things he could remember doing, but the feeling behind them was unfamiliar. He knew they were good memories, but the feeling was gone.

He... missed it. 

He tried getting the feelings back through all of his old methods. He slept with anything that walked. He stole cars and drove across the country, listening to ACDC at it’s loudest. He drank cheap beer and hustled human truckers who had no idea they could’ve been playing for their souls instead of dollar bills. 

It gave him no feeling. If anything, it made him worse. 

He returned to hell with a vengeance, tearing apart souls with a vigor that terrified the demons who watched. He destroyed everything in his path, crushed entire racks and decimated souls. The demons trembled before him wherever he went, and those who once felt honored to enter his presence now dreaded the occasion. A single wrong answer could mean a cage or the rack.

It was late into the night when Dean finally had the epiphany, sitting on his throne and twirling the amulet between his blood coated fingers.

The sound of laughter rang in his head, an old forgotten memory of him and his family in the bunker, playing card games and drinking beer. Sam. Castiel. Charlie. Memories of others all long gone and lost forever.

But there was still Sam. There was still Cas. 

His heart hammered in his chest, eyes flickering between the amulet and the blood stained windows leading to the rest of hell. Thunder cracked just outside, and he clenched his fist.

He knew what he had to do.

+

Two months. Dean had been missing two months since becoming a demon. The last they’d heard of him he’d killed Crowley and taken over hell. Sam knew that time was different in hell. He and Dean both had more than enough experience in that regard. 

It was his best guess that Dean had hidden himself away in those fiery depths, taking over and changing the regime to fit his desired order. 

Sam wanted desperately to break inside, shake his brother back into his old self and go home, where they belonged. 

But they couldn’t. They’d hunted down every demon they could find, and all of them would laugh and spit blood in their faces.

“Dean Winchester is  _gone_ ,” they’d hiss. “Long live the King.”

From the best they were able to learn, Dean was implementing changes. Big changes. 

Sam and Cas were used to finding demons in suits and pencil skirts. Now they were dressed in leather and smelled of blood and cigarette smoke. 

“Can you believe it?” One demon rolled his eyes. “Our new King is  _so_ much more lenient than our old one. Lets us do whatever the hell we want, as long as we steer clear of the kids. Has a soft spot for ‘em, but don’t tell ‘im I said that.”

“I don’t think that'll be a problem,” Sam replied, before promptly shoving Ruby’s knife in his gut. 

Castiel never said it, but Sam could see the hope slowly draining from his eyes with every demon they killed. 

“Sam,” the angel whispered one night, “what if we never get him back?”

Sam tightened his jaw and shook his head. “We have to keep holding out hope, Cas. Dean would never give up on us. We can’t give up on him now.”

Castiel nodded, face severe. “Of course,” he replied. “I just...”

He didn’t have to finish. Sam already knew. He offered Cas a sympathetic smile and turned back to the book in his hands, reading further on portals to hell and demon entrapment. He had a feeling trapping Dean would be harder than trapping an ordinary demon. 

He was ready to turn the page when suddenly, something silver flashed in the corner of his eye. 

Sam’s back stiffened, body tense and alert. A blade was pressed to his neck, and a freckled hand he knew all too well held the base of the weapon.

“Hello Sam,” Dean sighed. “Been a while.”

Castiel’s eyes were bright and his lips thin. He’d somehow found time to stand in the amount of time it took Dean to appear and press the angel blade to Sam’s throat. The angel’s hand was slowly drawing his own blade, but Dean tutted and pressed the blade closer to Sam’s chin.

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that.” His brother’s tone sounded like he was grinning. Sam felt a chill run down his spine. 

This wasn’t his brother.  _This was not Dean_.

“Now, I just wanted to stop by and see how my brother and our little angel were getting by without me. Still hot on my trail, I see?”

“Not hot enough,” Sam growled. 

Dean grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair and gently pulled back, just far enough so they could look each other in the eye. Sam froze when their gazes connected.

Dean’s eyes were black. Dean grinned and let go of Sam completely, still pointing the blade loosely in Sam’s direction, but moved away and sat on the table.

“I’ve been thinking. We should talk.”

Before Sam could ask what about, Dean raised a hand and snapped his fingers. A second later, the bunker was empty. The only sound left behind was Castiel’s angel blade clattering to the ground. 

**Author's Note:**

> my blog: lovefromdean.tumblr.com
> 
> I hope you liked it! Please feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think. Thank you!


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